Pete's handling of situation not rosy

From the Sidelines
   By David Wertime

Pete Rose looks like my uncle. Well, not exactly—my family lacks the pudgy nose, stocky build, and leathery skin requisite for enshrinement in the Rose clan. But he could be my uncle. And that's what counts, because to countless Americans, Rose's chubby physique, unspectacular intellect, and unremarkable manner make him seem as innocent and nondescript as our relatives or next-door neighbors. How could someone like him be guilty of any egregious crimes? Shielded from public scorn by his slightly bumbling image, his fame, and, yes, his whiteness, Rose enjoys all of the benefits and suffers from none of the drawbacks of being an utterly average man.

Of course, Pete Rose's accomplishments on the field are spectacular. He sports a career average better than .300, is the all-time leader in hits, and earned the nickname "Charlie Hustle" for sprinting to first base after every walk. And he did all of this despite being a player of average skill—one scout even he said would never make it past Class A ball. It's hard to watch Rose receive a rowdy ovation during the World Series for his election onto baseball's All-Century Team, only to step down and get verbally harassed by NBC reporter Jim Gray on national TV. It's even harder to understand why baseball, Rose's first and only love, refuses to entertain his pleas for reinstatement, and thus his assured entrance into the Hall of Fame. But it's hardest to forgive Pete Rose himself.

COURTESY CNNSI.COM NBC Reporter Jim Gray's interview of Pete Rose at the All-Century in Atlanta struck many as abusive and inappropriate.

For a man who made himself great within the confines of the game, Rose seems curiously blind to the severity of his own crime. In a sport that forgives cursing, poor (or rampant) fathering, and wife beating, betting on baseball stands as the one intolerable transgression. This value system is consistent given baseball's unconditional self-love. Hurting others is okay if one does not hurt the game. But when a player bets on baseball he shows shocking irreverence and a willingness to hack away at the sport's competitive base. Pete Rose denies ever betting. Most of us don't believe him. We forgive him, however, because his act did not injure another human being. Yet here we err, because such logic cannot be applied to a man who sees his world in competitive terms.

"Charlie Hustle" has never learned to avoid obstacles. Whe-ther coping with Major League Commissioner Bud Selig or heading for a wide-eyed catcher guarding home plate, Rose has always chosen to power forward. The moral and interpersonal subtleties of his dilemma evade him; the same focus that made him a special player now curses him with tunnel vision. Selig, who insists on ignoring Rose's petition for reinstatement, will not be cowed or convinced by Rose's obstinance. Yet Rose continues to haunt every Hall of Fame induction ceremony, and even gives pep-rallies to minor league teams, all in an effort to garner publicity for his cause. And, perhaps in a misguided effort to stroke Selig's ego, Rose claims that he is not worried about the inattention his application has received because Selig is a busy man. Is the commissioner ever not busy? Such attempted soft-shoes make Rose seem blind to the truth, while giving his own case short shrift.

After all, in a strictly legal sense, Rose's petition is reasonable. He was expelled from the game by crusty Yalie Bart Giamatti, SY '60, GRD '64, but was not accused of gambling on baseball. Moreover, the agreement Rose signed provided for his eventual application for reinstatement. By ignoring his implicit obligation to consider this application, Selig is breaking baseball's half of the agreement.

But Rose's quest for historical recognition remains oddly anti-climactic. For a man who made the trek out to first base an adventure, the trot toward baseball's ultimate goal has been almost boring. We keep waiting for something to happen. In this case, baited breath is warranted—not because Rose has always played the entertainer before, but because the time has come for him to move past his persona. Rose should be reinstated and admitted to the Hall of Fame, but this is not the real issue. Rather, Pete Rose must confess and apologize to those fans who watched and admired him and to those colleagues who have stood by him. Because Rose refuses to do this, he implies that our forgiveness is not worth seeking. He demonstrates that, for all of his posturing, he has not grown up. He makes it clear that our trust is not valuable to him. Too bad these are precisely the qualities that make an average American guy special.

Back to Sports...